Is that a Wallet in your Pocket, or?
by SingingInTheRaiin
Summary: Eight years after being jilted on prom night, Draco encounters a desolate Harry prostituting himself on a street corner. It seems like the perfect opportunity to get back at Harry for breaking his heart. And maybe it would be, if it weren't for the fact that there was just so much more to the story than that. (one shot)


He looked around quickly, to see if anything had been taken. Maybe it hadn't been the wisest idea to leave a prostitute alone in the house while he went out, but it had been urgent business, and Draco really hadn't wanted to send the man away.

From the moment he'd spotted the man leaned up against a lamp post, Draco had known he'd wanted to bring him home. It wasn't that the man was attractive- though he'd have to be completely blind to not recognize the beauty in front of him. But what had really drawn in Draco's attention was the fact that he knew this particular man.

Back in their school days, Draco had always considered the two of them to be rivals, though he knew that in reality the other boy had hardly ever noticed him. It was really quite unfair. Draco came from a more prestigious family, with a lot more money to its name, but he had always had so much trouble getting anyone to pay much attention to him. They were always far too busy focused on Harry, the 'golden child'.

And as much as he wanted to, Draco couldn't really begrudge others for liking Harry, because he was just a likeable guy. Selfless to a fault, willing to do anything for the people he cared about, charming, outspoken against things he believed to be wrong, and just sickeningly friendly to everyone, no matter how well he knew them. Harry's parents had died when he was just a baby, but he'd been raised by his godfather and godfather's husband, who were very loving, to the point where it almost seemed unreal at times. And once Harry was old enough, he'd been given access to the money his parents had left him in their will. And even though it was nothing compared to the Malfoy fortune, it was still a lot more money than the average person had. And yet Harry had never let it go to his head that he had so much money, and such a caring family.

And maybe even if he had, Draco would have been able to forgive Harry for all of it. He couldn't control the exact circumstances of his life like that, and it seemed petty to dislike someone because they were too nice of a person. But after years of being in the same classes, Draco had finally built up the courage to approach Harry near the end of their senior year of high school.

Well, technically he'd approached the other boy before, but it had always been with witty insults and clever ways to trip up the boy. But it had been different, because Draco had apologized. Said he felt bad for the way he'd treated Harry throughout their entire school career, and said that he wanted to be friends.

For a few months after that, things had been really good. At first Harry had been hesitant to get too close, but once Draco proved that he really did just want to be friends, Harry had relaxed more around him. They'd hung out together, both in larger groups, and with just the two of them. They laughed with each other, and Draco learned that though Harry couldn't make a good joke to save his life, he had a strong appreciation for those who could, including Draco. They learned so much more about each other in a few months than they ever had in the many years they'd been acquainted.

And then everything had crashed down around him before Draco could even begin to figure out where he'd gone wrong. He'd asked Harry to go to prom with him, and Harry had agreed, seemingly excited by the prospect. Draco had gushed to his parents about it for weeks. But the joke was on Draco. He'd gone straight to the hotel, just like they'd planned on, but when he got there, Harry was already there with his best friend's kid sister, Ginny, who'd always had a major crush on him. Harry, who had always spoken his mind because he didn't believe in subterfuge, just shrugged and told Draco that he wasn't interested in him 'like that'. That since they were 'just friends' it wouldn't matter if he went to prom with an actual date instead, without giving Draco any kind of heads up about it.

Humiliated and hurt, Draco had refused to slink away, and had danced with toad-faced Pansy Parkinson all night long. And then he'd watched silently as Harry left at one point, and came back to find Ginny and hold up a hotel room key, directly within Draco's line of sight. That's when Draco had given up and gone home, where he'd eaten ice cream and let himself be comforted by his mother while his father refrained from handing out any 'I told you so's. Harry had never shown up to the actual graduation ceremony, which meant Draco didn't have to worry about avoiding the cruel boy on what was supposed to be a day of celebration.

That had been almost eight years at this point, and Draco had expected he'd never see Harry again. He'd always remembered Harry somewhere in the very back of his mind, in the way that anyone would recall their first real crush. But he'd moved on and dated other people and gone to university and gotten himself a good job, and Harry had been far from the foreground of his thoughts.

So when he'd spotted Harry out on the street, it had certainly taken him by surprise. No matter how much he disliked the man, he knew that Harry had always been good at money management, and Draco couldn't figure out how Harry might have squandered away his entire fortune already to be desperate enough to sell his body.

But Draco didn't really care about what had led Harry to that lamp post in that netted scrap of cloth that could barely be called a shirt, and those leather pants that seemed practically painted on, and those familiar glasses that had always given him a slightly owlish look were nowhere to be found. From the way Harry's eyes had widened in surprise (and they were green- so bright green that Draco wondered how he'd never noticed that before), it had been obvious that he'd recognized Draco too.

And even though he knew that it would be a terrible idea, Draco had decided to hire Harry for the night, and drove him back to his flat. In the well lit entrance way, it was easier to see the way Harry's ribs were sticking out too much, and his arms were mottled with bruises, and his nose had a little crook to it like it had been broken but never properly healed. If Draco had thought that this was just Harry playing some kind of game, or doing this for fun, seeing him in the light of the apartment quickly changed Draco's mind about that.

Draco had made both of them some hot tea. It was cold outside, and he didn't understand how Harry had just been standing out there in what could hardly even be considered a complete outfit. But then before he could actually get to the fun part of the evening, Draco had been called into work. He was a corporate lawyer at his father's firm, and was in the middle of a particularly difficult merger. Some ass hat from the opposing company had broken into the law firm to see what documents they had on file. The intruder had tripped an alarm and the police had been called, and Draco had needed to go in and deal with the whole mess. He'd told Harry to stay put before running out into the night again.

To be perfectly honest, Draco hadn't really expected Harry to stick around. It would be a lot easier for the man to just grab whatever valuables he could see and make a run for it. If he was really making a living like this, then Draco probably wouldn't have much luck tracking him down to get back his stuff.

And yet, there he was. Curled up in a little ball on Draco's bed, lying on top of the blankets despite the chill in the air and his light clothing. His messy black hair was spilled out over the pillow, and Draco gulped. At least when he was awake, Harry had exuded confidence, regardless of how he was dressed or what his current physical state was. But like this, he just looked so small and vulnerable, and Draco cursed himself for thinking that he could get some kind of revenge for what had happened back in high school. Clearly Harry had already suffered enough. And besides that, it was high school. They'd both been stupid kids, and it wasn't really Harry's fault that he hadn't been able to return Draco's feelings.

He let out a heavy sigh, and then gently nudged Harry aside so that he could pull the blankets free. He clenched his jaw at just how easy it was to move his former classmate. Harry seemed to weigh nothing at all, and Draco was almost afraid that if he hadn't picked Harry up, a strong gust of wind would have blown him over, and his too-skinny limbs would have snapped right in half.

Draco tucked the blankets around Harry, and then grabbed the second pillow off of the bed. Sure, Harry was beautiful, and apparently for sale, but Draco felt like it would be wrong to wake him up and have sex right now. Like he would be taking advantage. He decided that he'd let Harry stay the night, give him breakfast in the morning, and still pay him for the night before sending him on his way.

He set up the pillow and a spare blanket on the couch, and then stripped down to his undershirt and boxers before getting himself settled down.

,,,

Draco was gradually woken up by the smell of bacon and toast, and he blinked a few times in confusion. It took a moment for him to remember why he was sleeping on the couch, and then he got up and headed to the kitchen. Harry was standing in front of the stove, and the sizzling of the bacon was loud enough that Harry didn't hear him until he reached out and put his hand on Harry's shoulder.

The smaller man leapt back, flailing the spatula around, before seeing that it was Draco, and relaxing. "Morning," he mumbled.

Draco peered over at the frying pans on the stove. "You're cooking for me? I'm not sure you understand how this kind of business transaction is supposed to work." He immediately wanted to slap himself for saying that, since it hadn't come out in teasing tone he had intended.

Instead of blushing and getting flustered like he had back in school when anyone ever mentioned anything related to sex, Harry just let out a tired sigh, and turned back to the pans to make sure that nothing got burnt. "Usually posh businessmen don't just take off and leave me to fall asleep before they can get back. You could have woken me up, you know. I wouldn't have been mad."

Regardless of whether that was true or not, Draco found it rather sad that Harry felt like it was a necessary thing for him to say. "I was tired," he lied. "But you don't owe me anything."

"Well, not anymore." Harry grabbed the handle of one of the frying pans to shake it pointedly. "I don't just make breakfast for any random john. Only the ones who accidentally let me crash for the night without even doing any work first." Then he reached forward to turn off the stove, and lifted the heavy cast iron pan. Draco watched with concern, hoping that Harry's toothpick thin arms had some hidden strength in them so that the whole thing wouldn't go crashing to the floor.

Harry plated the bacon, and then grabbed the other frying pan, where he'd been making the toast. He put the slices on the plate next to the bacon, and then turned around to hold the single plate out to Draco. Draco automatically accepted it, but then frowned. "What about yours?"

Harry shrugged. "I was just going to grab something on my way home."

Draco shook his head, and reached past Harry to grab a second plate from the cabinet next to the stove. He put half of the bacon and one of the slices of toast on there, and then nodded towards it. "Eat up."

Harry gave him a slight look of disbelief, but when Draco just turned and walked over to the little table to set his plate down and start eating, Harry followed after him a moment later. They both ate in silence, and then Harry looked around awkwardly. "I should clean up those pans before I go."

That's right, Harry needed to go. And then he'd be gone, and Draco would probably never see him again, and he would never get the closure that he hadn't realized he still needed. "Wait, I uh, I know that it was almost a decade ago at this point, but I have to know. I understand that I never really clarified that I didn't mean going to prom as friends, and that's on me, but why didn't you ever tell me? You could have at least called to tell me there was a change of plans."

Harry's face suddenly looked far too old and tired for someone of their age. "Like you said, that was forever ago. Why would you even care about that anymore?"

Draco shrugged. Even he wasn't really sure why it still bothered him so much. "I guess it just messed with me, you know? I thought that you'd already forgiven me for all the stuff I did to you, but then when you turned around and- it just hurt. Not because I wanted to date you, but because I thought that we were friends."

The way Harry's eyes were shimmering made it look like he was about to start crying. "I'm so sorry, Draco. I never meant to hurt you. I swear that I wanted to go to prom with you. And I did think that you were asking me there as a date." Hearing that made Draco's heart soar for a second, but then he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, and Harry hurried on. "But the night before, your dad showed up. He told me about all the ways that being with me would ruin your life, and I couldn't do that to you. He said that if I tried to let you down easy, you wouldn't give up on me, and I knew he was right, so that's why I had to go so far. But I regretted it immediately afterwards. I hated myself for doing that to you. I didn't even sleep with Ginny that night. Just the thought of doing that when you were downstairs, looking so sad- I couldn't do it."

Draco wasn't sure who he felt more pissed at now. It was almost sad how easy it was to believe that his father would do something like that. He should have known that when he started acting so distant, it was because he didn't like the fact that Draco was gay. But his father was dead, which made Harry the more convenient target to get angry at. "So he said you suck and you just immediately believed him that breaking my heart was the solution? Why would you even listen to him? Why wouldn't you come talk to me?"

Because he was so skinny, Harry was able to pull his legs up onto the chair so that his knees were up against his chest. It was clearly a defensive move, and it served to make Harry look almost childish, despite his current get up. "I know this is probably going to sound pretty dumb, and you're probably not going to understand why I never mentioned it sooner, but I wasn't actually raised by my godfather. I mean, I love the guy, and if it had been my choice, I would have chosen to live with him and his husband ages ago. But he had a prison record, so the court decided that my aunt and uncle would be more fit guardians. The only reason they agreed to take custody of me was to get at my parents' money. And they really -really- didn't like me, and made sure I knew that everyday of my life growing up. When you go your whole life being called worthless and evil and a freak and a curse, hearing it from one more person isn't exactly difficult to believe. As soon as I turned eighteen, I left to move in with Sirius, but by then my uncle had already had more than enough time to move things around and make fake papers and do whatever he needed to do to make sure that I wouldn't get anything from my parents. Sirius was kicked out of his family because of his jail time, so the three of us just lived off of what we earned, paycheck to paycheck. It was, without a doubt, the happiest years of my life."

Obviously something bad had to have happened to go from the happiest years of his life to where he was now, and Draco's heart ached from what he'd already heard. And he also got the feeling that his relatives had hurt him with more than just verbal insults, but now wasn't the time to focus on that. When it seemed like Harry wasn't going to keep talking, Draco got up and slowly walked around the table, and then waited until Harry looked up at him before pulling him into a hug. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

Harry shook his head. "It's okay. I- I guess at least somebody should know. Well, three years ago or so, Remus- Sirius' husband- got bitten by a wild dog. It was really bad and he had to go to the hospital for treatment, and it ate up every penny of savings we'd managed to get up to that point. Then Remus ended up getting really sick, and he couldn't teach because it got so bad. There were so many bills, from the hospital, and rent, and food, and everything was a mess. We had to move into an even tinier apartment than before, only one bedroom and I slept on the couch. We all tried taking out loans, but none of us had any credit to speak of. Sirius was already working part time under the table at the only job that would hire him with his record, but it wasn't enough, and I ended up getting employed at a strip club after a serious misunderstanding. I had absolutely hated the idea at first, until I realized that it was pretty profitable. And then I realized that whoring is where the real money was. I got fired from the club after I punched a customer who was harassing one of the girls, and that's when I took to the streets to bring in more money.

"It worked for a little while, until I came home with too many bruises, and Sirius freaked out. He didn't believe me when I said I was mugged, and ended up following me out the next night. When he saw what I was doing, he-" Harry's voice cracked, and tears started falling from his eyes. "He tried to get into a fight with my customer, but the guy refused to back down, and when the guy tried to grab me and leave, Sirius pulled out a knife and- he ended up killing the guy. It was an accident, he only meant to scare him off, but multiple people witnessed him starting the fight in the first place, and he already had a record of aggressive behavior, so he went back to jail for manslaughter.

"Remus only got worse after that, without Sirius around to cheer him up and keep him hopeful. I earned as much money as I could, but we were barely scraping by. Remus ended up going back to work despite his condition, but I think the stress of working with kids and the constant strain on his head from all the papers and classes and knowing that his husband was in prison all escalated things. One day he passed out in the middle of giving a lecture, and he was taken to the hospital. He was in a coma for two weeks before he died.

"And then I was alone, in a tiny apartment that I couldn't afford, with a lot of medical bills to pay. Since Sirius was in jail, I ended up being Remus' health proxy, and all his stuff got dumped on my head after he passed. I've just been working my ass off to survive ever since then. Sirius still has seven years left, and that's about the only thing that's actually keeping me going now."

Draco gulped at the onslaught of information. He'd spent years feeling butt hurt about being jilted on prom, but Harry had been out there living through tragedy after horror after tragedy. He just wanted to wrap Harry up in a blanket and cuddle him and never let him go back out into the world that had treated him so cruelly. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I was going to use you as some stupid revenge thing, but I didn't understand anything, and I'm so sorry."

Harry dropped his legs back to the floor, and reached out to gently card a hand through Draco's hair. "You have nothing you need to be sorry for. This is my job, Draco. I've dealt with a lot of people who are a lot worse than you could ever even imagine being. It's fine."

They both stared at each other for a few seconds before Draco figured out how to talk again. "I'm sorry that we couldn't have the magical prom night that everyone always dreams of. But, uh, do you want to dance with me?"

Harry couldn't keep the confusion off of his face. "Right now?"

Draco nodded. "Yeah." He stood up straight and offered out one hand, hoping beyond everything that Harry would accept. When a delicate, bony hand touched his, it felt like a great victory. He gently pulled Harry up, and even though there was no music, Draco began to sweep Harry around the room in grand movements, like they were at some kind of fancy ball.

His resolve from last night, to just pay Harry and send him on his way, had completely disappeared, replaced by a newfound determination. Harry felt so perfect in Draco's arms right now, and he knew that he wasn't going to let anything happen to him again.


End file.
